


The One Where They Dig

by eggasaur



Category: Holes (2003), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Multi, and editing it years after, hoo boy this should be fun., the one where I wrote this in middle school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23106409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggasaur/pseuds/eggasaur
Summary: John Watson gets sent to Camp Green Lake, a camp for naughty boys out in the middle of no where, Desert Town, USA. Getting caught was one this, but if he went to jail, there was no chance of getting into a good medical school. So Hell Lake it is.Will John survive the heat, or the other (very bad) boys, or... maybe... dragging his crush up a mountain?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, jim moriarty/a death sentance
Kudos: 2





	The One Where They Dig

**Author's Note:**

> YEah okay! I wrote this in middle school, and after heavy editing, I'm glad to say that I kinda want to post it. It's a super silly idea. 
> 
> Also all these kids are clearly, uh, KIDS, so not anything sexual is gonna happen. Just fluff. 
> 
> also, this fic is narrated by Moriarty.

“So what’d’ya in for?”

A voice snapped John from his daydream, back to the bus that he was riding.

“I’m sorry?”

“Name’s Greg Lestrade. I said: what’d’ya in for?” Greg repeated himself in a bored manner, not too impressed by how slow John seems to be.

“Oh. I’m John Watson. I’m here for intrusion on military property.” 

“And why would you ever do that for?”

“I want to be in the military…” John looked away sheepishly. That wasn’t the real reason he was on a bus to a… What was this place again? 

“I wanted to be-” Greg started. 

“NO TALKING.” The guard yelled.

Greg Lestrade sat up in his seat, looking over the short seats of the school bus to give the guard a dirty look. John just kept his eyes out of the window, looking at the dusty camp coming into view. Even if he tried to look over the seat, his handcuffs that connected him to his armrest prevented him from moving much. It didn’t matter though. Wherever they were, it didn’t look pretty. 

Outside were rows of cotton and hay. Most of them looked to be too dry to grow properly, but there they were. Maybe if the plants could survive the horrors here, John could too? It didn’t seem likely. Where was John going anyway? Wait… How could he have forgotten.

Camp Green Lake. Well, not anymore. It’s not a lake anymore. Long dried, this part of wherever in America John was sent to (he thought maybe Texas, but wasn’t sure) had no water. No trees, no shade. Just sweltering heat. It was the suffocating dry heat that made your lungs wither, sinuses crack, made your skin like the dried clay of a lakebed long parched by drought. And John? He didn’t like it. AT ALL. John was from England, see, and he didn’t like the dry weather of America. 

John Watson had been born in London, but now an American citizen. His mom and dad had been in the American army, and was stationed in England for 13 years. John had been born the same year his father and mother moved to England, so he grew up there. He even had an accent to show for it. But only two months prior to him riding this bus, his family had an accident. He was forced to move to America, to be taken care of by a family friend, in the states. To Texas. Or something. John resented the fact that he had to move, so he hadn’t bothered to learn much about where he was. That little fact had gotten him into a lot of trouble…

You see, this is the story of how John Watson met a boy nicknamed “Lock”, and how they ended up saving a bunch of kids from certain doom. If “certain doom” was digging holes, that is. 

Yes, that was the point of Camp Green Lake. It was a correctional facility, meant for kids who did bad things. Their choice. Go to jail, or go to Camp Green Lake. At Camp Green Lake, you had to dig holes for our punishment. Bad kids go in, they dig holes, and come out good kids. At least that’s what the adults’ logic is. 

How do I know all this?

I was there. For some of it. Most of it. Actually, almost all of it except one part. But we’ll get back to that later, I’ll introduce myself in a moment as another character soon. Let’s get back to Mr. John Watson. 

John Watson kept his eyes out the window, thinking about all that lead up to this moment. While thinking, he fiddled with the strap of the bag in his lap. That bag was filled with only a few things. Toothpaste, a toothbrush, stationary, and a notebook. He had promised Mrs. Hudson that he would write at least once a week. Mrs. Hudson was the old family friend John was sent to.

He was sent to America because his parents said so. They didn’t give him an explanation, just told him an “accident” happened and sent him off in a hurry. John ended up confused at the New York airport, took another plane to Austin, Texas, to meet Mrs. Hudson. From there Mrs. Hudson took him to her flat (“Flat? Oh, you mean apartment! Goodness, you speak so differently!”) a few hours away from the overwhelming city, in a small town. 

John was devastated, of sorts. He was only 13 years old, after all. His heartbreak soon turned to anger… and he pulled the stupid stunt that ended him up riding the bus to Camp Green Lake. 

What was that stupid stunt?

I would tell you, but the part where John says it himself is funny and I don’t want to ruin things for you. 

Aren’t I fun? Oh shut up, I know I am.

**Author's Note:**

> have nay ideas for this fic?? Because I have a really loose idea of where I want this to go. OR any other kind of ideas??? hit me up!! I'd love to write for you :))


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